Random Bits of Fluff
by SquintSquad10
Summary: A collection of fluffy oneshots starring our favorite noncouple, Booth and Bones!  Review, review, review!
1. So Hot

**A/N:** So this is going to be a collection of fluffy one-shots, so that I have a place to put all of them. Some will be their first kiss, or just cute moments between our favorite non-couple, or maybe a few where they're already together. It's pretty loose. If you have any ideas of chapters you want me to write, just suggest them in a review, they are always helpful! Enjoy, and don't forget to REVIEW! No new chapters unless I get reviews! )

**Disclaimer:** Yep. That'll be the day.

-------------------

Music pulsed through the dimly lit club; pulsed through her veins. Temperance Brennan sat alone at the bar, watching her best friend move to the music, dancing easily with her boyfriend. Angela was the epitome of a free spirit, and this was exactly where she belonged.

It was not, however, where Brennan belonged.

Angela had dragged her here, promised her a good time. And Brennan _wanted_ to like it—she really did! She wore the costume Angela had picked out, the tight jeans clinging to her shapely calves, her tank top showing just enough skin.

But she just couldn't let loose like Angela could. She couldn't just…_stop_. She couldn't forget everything and lose herself for a night. Ordering another drink, she sat at the bar, sulking, head resting in her free hand.

Suddenly a hand was in hers, pulling her up off her feet and onto the dance floor.

"Booth," she breathed, wondering how he knew where she was.

But then, he always knew, didn't he.

She was greeted with Special Agent Seeley Booth's famous Charm Smile. "Hey, Bones. What did Angela have to do to get you to come _here_?" he asked, a small laugh escaping his lips.

"It was this or shopping," Brennan admitted, to which Booth's smile just grew wider.

"Well," he said as he twirled her around, "might as well make the most of it then, eh?" His deep, chocolaty brown eyes glimmered with hope and flashed with desire. Brennan just smiled, shook her head, and laughed.

With Booth by her side, she felt free. For once, she let herself go. She danced.

"Excuse me, but I couldn't help noticing how hot you looked." Brennan, confused, looked up to meet the greasy smile of a tall, scraggly blonde man. Tequila was practically oozing out of him, and Brennan had to take a step back to get away from the smell. "May I have this dance?"

Brennan gave him a quick once over, and, her tone flat and even, replied with a simple "No."

"Awww, come on pretty lady, just one dance, don't you worry, I'll be a perfect gentleman…" he slurred, a sticky hand pulling at her arm, smiling a toothy grin. Before Brennan has a chance to use her finely honed martial arts skills on the cocky man, a large, tanned hand fell across his arm.

_Booth_.

"Sorry, but I be_lieve_ she said 'no'".

After that, it all happened in slow motion. A laugh, a yell, a punch. A cry of pain. Another punch.

The next thing she knew, the blonde man was on the floor with a bloody nose. Booth was standing in front of her, beads of sweat dripping from his face, running a nervous hand through his mussed hair and looking at her with caring, worried eyes.

She smiled.

Without a word, she took two steps forward, closing the gap between them, and threw her arms around his neck. Never one for patience, Temperance pulled his head down to hers, her lips meeting his in a pent up, passionate, soul-shattering kiss. Desire flamed through her closed eyes, his initial surprise melting away into pure content.

This was as it should be.

Pulling away just enough to rest her forehead against his, she whispered, her voice ragged and deep. A hint of danger sparkled in her eyes and a sly, sexy smile playing across her lips. "That," she whispered, images of the fight flashing through her mind, "was **so** hot."

And he found her lips again, kissing her hungrily. Music pulsed around them as the song changed, but neither noticed. Brennan had let loose—and finally, _finally_, she had all she had ever wanted.


	2. Mistletoe

**A/N: I know it's been like forever since I've written something, and everyone's probably forgotten about this little story, but over break I was determined to write! So, as a result, you get this: the brain child of next week's preview and my lack of things to do at midnight. ) enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Oh, did I forget to mention? My name's Hart Hanson.**

**--------------------**

The dictionary defines _mistletoe_ as "a European plant, having yellowish flowers and white berries, growing parasitically on various trees, used in Christmas decorations." Temperance Brennan never knew that it could change her life.

----------------

"Because, sweetie, it's _Christmas_. This place," Angela raised her hands and looked around at the dimly lit lab at the Jeffersonian, "needs some spirit!" Tapping her foot against the cool ceramic, Angela crossed her arms defiantly across her chest. Her eyes silently dared her best friend, brilliant forensic anthropologist Dr. Temperance Brennan, to tell her 'no'. With a sigh and a quick roll of her eyes, Brennan agreed, turning back to her lab table while a squealing Angela scurried off to string up twinkle lights and hang mistletoe above the doorway to Temperance Brennan's office.

"Doctor Brennan." The voice of Caroline Julian caused Brennan to look up from her remains once again. Was she _ever_ going to identify her World War I victim? "I _assume_ you have the paperwork done for the Moyer case? I would _like_ to put the son of a bitch on trial at _some_ point in the near future."

"Yes, it's right in my office." Caroline followed Brennan into an office now complete with twinkle lights, mistletoe, and a miniature Christmas tree in the corner. Not looking up as she walked through the door, Temperance Brennan was startled to find her partner, FBI special agent Seeley Booth, standing in her way.

"Whoaaa there Bones, nice to see you too," he laughed as she walked straight into his chest. "I've been looking for you."

"Booth, what are you doing here? You know I'm working on my World War I victim, and yes, I _did _eat breakfast." Silently watching this exchange, Caroline stood with a smirk on her face. She glanced from Booth, to Brennan, to the mistletoe hanging above them in the doorway. She cleared her throat loudly reminding them of her presence. With a single finger, Caroline pointed upwards.

_Mistletoe_.

Both heads looked up, and quickly back down again. Booth, chocolaty brown eyes growing large and looking anywhere but back at Brennan, began to fidget around in his pockets. He had imagined their first kiss countless times—he imagined it happening during an argument, an argument that got so heated he couldn't help but push her flush against the wall and silence her with a passionate kiss. He imagined a soft, gentle kiss that was comforting after her father had disappointed her yet again. What he hadn't imagined, was this. He hadn't imagined Caroline Julian having to push him towards her, or having their first kiss take place under forced pretenses. He wanted her to _want_ to cross The Line, not be thrown across it. He wanted to kiss her right.

Not like this.

But, as it seemed, he didn't really have a choice. And a kiss with Temperance Brennan was a kiss with Temperance Brennan, whatever the conditions. It may not have been exactly how he imagined it, but he would make this the perfect kiss. It would be worth the three years of agony he'd had to live through, three years of agony where he stole hugs where he could get them, took any excuse to touch her, hold her. His eyes flicked across her face; her steel blue eyes and porcelain white skin seemed to glow under the twinkle lights. Slowly, ever so slowly, he leaned forward. And in his wildest dream come true, she was leaning forward to meet him. It seemed to take the lips hours until finally, _finally_, they met.

They crossed the line.

It was a sweet, passionate kiss. Three years of pent up desire, passion, and tension were buried in that kiss. Three years of "guy hugs", three years of wanting and waiting. There was no short, simple, swift peck of the lips, followed by flushed faces and forced, awkward laughs. No, there was none of that. There was Brennan, clutching Booth by the lapels of his suit jacket, her mouth moving against his in perfect rhythm. There was Booth, his arms wrapped tightly around her small figure, a hint of a boyish smile evident on his lips as he kissed the woman he loved. His partner, his best friend. His Bones.

-------------------

To Temperance Brennan, mistletoe had always just been a plant. Now, when she looked at the doorway to her office, a smile spread across her face. Mistletoe had erased the line, had been the magnet forcing her and Booth together. Finally. _I'll have to remember to thank Angela for that_.


	3. Rain

**A/N: Just a short little drabble, because I wanted something kind of bittersweet. Review review review, they make my day!!**

**Disclaimer: Yeah. No.**

---------------

Rain pelted down from the skies; hard and angry, this rain was unforgiving. It pounded down around her shoulders, burned into her cheeks like fire. They assaulted her body, furiously splashing the grass around her. There came a time when she was so wet that she became unaware of whether or not it was still raining. It didn't matter anyways, she guessed. Rain was fitting for today.

Dr. Temperance Brennan had never had a normal relationship with her father. Both her parents had left when she was a teenager, and after that, things never were quite the same. How could they be? _He's a criminal_, she repeated to herself time and time again, _and he left you._ She didn't want to love him, to need him, because that would just lead to hurt. It always did. She would trust him, just as she had as a child, and then he would leave. And once again she would be ripped apart. No, the independent Doctor Brennan was not about to let that happen.

She let her fingers run across the smooth, damp concrete of the tombstone. She felt the depressions as her fingers traced the letters, the words she herself had picked out. The sky was smoky, heavy with billowing black clouds. Almost as if they knew that it was a time for mourning, as if they were trying to pay their respects, too. They were sad and dark and depressed, just like her. Raindrops mixed with tears, and she knew the sky was crying for her father, too. Just like her. Brennan couldn't quite pinpoint when she had let herself get attached to her father again. She hadn't meant to. She hadn't wanted to. But she did, and he had left her, left this world. Just when she was beginning to need him again.

She hated herself for being right. Just once, she thought, it would have felt good to be wrong. It would have felt good for someone to prove he wouldn't let her down, wouldn't leave when she finally let him in. Trees swayed around her in the stormy breeze, leaves rustling in the wind. It all seemed distant and far away. The rain was steady now, and she could feel the hairs on her arms standing on end. Goosebumps. She blamed it on the cold.

He found it somewhat comical that she never saw him. Dr. Temperance Brennan, world renowned forensic anthropologist, was known for catching all the little details. She was observant, aware of everything around her. And yet as he stood leaning on an old oak tree fifty feet away, arms folded across his chest and brow furrowed, she never saw a thing. He walked slowly, not wanting to disturb the tranquil peace surrounding them. Placing a hand soothingly on her shoulder, he made his presence known. He knelt beside her, not saying a word, simply rubbing small circles on her shoulder. He would wait until she was ready.

"Booth," she breathed. It was less than a whisper, it was a sigh. A sigh of relief, a sigh of thanks. She leaned into his arms, her head finding the crook of his neck like it was a reflex. She felt so small, so weak. She wasn't used to feeling like this, to feeling so vulnerable. With his arms around her, she felt so drained. So tired. She found herself thinking about how it was Booth who had always been there for her, through all the hard times. A montage of all the moments, good and bad, that they had shared together ran through her head. And she realized that she already had someone that had proven her wrong. Someone she needed, and who had always been there. Who would _always_ be there, she knew now. For the first time in days, the tired lips of Dr. Temperance Brennan tilted upwards into a small smile.

Max Keenan, Brennan's father, had uttered four simple words to him. "Take care of her." Booth promised himself that day that he always would. He sighed, leaned down, and pressed a small kiss to the top of her head as he pulled the woman he loved tighter in his arms. It was the easiest promise he ever made.


	4. Hold Her Closer

**A/N: So I haven't updated in a while, and I'm sorry... but we had a snow day today, so bam, here you get some happy fluff:-) Also my first attempt at a songfic... review and let me know if you loved it or hated it or anything in between... pretty please with Booth on top! Song is Hold Her Closer, by Blessed Union of Souls. A gorgeous song and very fitting for B/B, in my opinion.**

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Temperance Brennan couldn't sleep.

She lay in bed in the dead of winter, blankets pulled up tight around her neck, sweating bullets, panting as if she had just run a marathon. She closed her eyes, even for a moment, and it would come back. They were flashes, really. Unconnected moments that scared her more than she thought possible, or even understood. Booth. A gunshot. Searing red light. A scream. And then, darkness.

It had been going on for a while, now that she thought about it. Too long. All she wanted was a good night's sleep, just once. But the images haunted her. _It's okay, Brennan_, she reminded herself, _he's safe. Nothing happened._ He was her partner, her best friend. She loved him. She loved him more than she had ever let herself love anyone, and that scared her.

_When you see love  
And you don't know what it is  
You might find yourself in fear  
To show your heart_

She didn't know what she would do if anything had happened to him. If she hadn't gotten to him in time. Without even consciously knowing what she was doing, she got out of bed. Her hair was a mess, brown locks mussed and out of place, her usual bright, steel blue eyes seemed dim and clouded with grey. She dragged on a pair of loose sweatpants and pulled her softest red sweater over her head, letting the fabric drape her with comfort. Irrational, she knew, but she needed to see him. Needed to know he was still there, with her.

_But when you feel it  
And it's oh, so wonderful  
You might find yourself in fear  
To let it part, in fear to let it part_

Seeley Booth did not know whether he dreamed it or not. A soft knock on his door stirred him from sleep, but the ensuing silence made him question whether or not he had really heard anything. A few beats passed. Nothing. Flopping back down on his feather bed, he shook his head, trying to get back into his peaceful slumber. But then there it was again. The knocking. This time, he had heard it for sure. He walked lazily to the door, rubbing his eyes as he opened it, completely unprepared for the sight in front of him.

The door opened, and there he stood. Alive, whole, and right in front of her. He was safe; it had only been a nightmare. She couldn't help the tears that welled up in her eyes, emotion coursing through her body. She didn't even know what she felt—so many feelings were bouncing around in her oversized brain. Relief. Fear. Contentment. She had never felt this way, and didn't understand it. Temperance Brennan could tell you how a soldier died two hundred years ago, what sport a victim had played when they were six, the derivation of the word for every bone in the human body. But if you asked, she could not for the life of her describe how she was feeling right now, standing in front of the man she loved.

Booth didn't know why she came or why she was crying, but he did know he couldn't stand to see her like this. It ripped him apart, brought tears to his own eyes to see her like this. So he did the only thing he could: he stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and swept her into a hug. He rubbed soothing circles on her back with his thumb, stroked her hair with his large hand. It wasn't a guy hug, it was a real hug.

So hold her closer when she cries  
Hold her closer when she feels  
She needs a hand to hold  
Someone who'll never let her go again  
And hold him closer when he tries  
To hold the tears back from his eyes  
Don't say goodbye

When her tears had subsided, he pulled her inside, sitting her down on his couch as he stirred about in the kitchen, making her hot chocolate. Brennan gazed around his apartment, lazily fingering the worn brown fabric of Booth's couch. He handed her a steaming mug of hot chocolate and she sipped it, thankfully. Minutes passed slowly, achingly for Booth. He needed to know what was bothering her. Needed to fix it.

He spoke softly, a hoarse whisper. "Bones?" Her head snapped up, blue eyes round and wondering as they met brown. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?"

She looked away, almost ashamed. She took another sip of her hot chocolate and set it carefully down on the wooden coffee table before them, pulled her knees up to her chin, and turned to face Booth. "I just… I, I can't sleep," she confessed. He didn't speak, simply nodded, motioning for her to continue. "Every time I close my eyes, it' like…it's like you're back there again. You're tied to that chair and he's pointing a gun at your head, and I just, I can't…I can't get there. I can't save you." A tear rolled down her cheek. His lips turned up in a half smile as he brushed it away with the pad of his thumb.

"Bones, I'm right here. I wouldn't leave you, okay? What kind of partner would I be if I did?" He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. Brennan smiled too, a small smile, but she looked away, her eyes still heavy with tears.

When your heart decides  
That it's time to let it through  
There's no reason to be scared  
To open up

He turned her chin towards him, made him look at her. He repeated himself, wanting to let her know how much he meant his words. "I would never leave you. I couldn't."

Cause love may be blind  
But all of us don't see it

Her eyes met his once again and he saw the emotion etched in them. He saw fear, he saw caring, but behind it all… he saw love. The same love he knew was reflected in his own, the same love he had felt for years now. _Deep breath, Seel. It's now or never_. "Because I love you."

So just once in your life  
If you hear the knock of love  
Just let it in

He held his breath, waiting, waiting for her reaction. Their faces were close now, inches apart, his hand still grazing her chin. So many thoughts were running through her head—_He's your partner. You could get separated. He could leave you, like everybody else._ But right now… right now, Temperance Brennan really didn't want to think. She didn't want to think about whether what they were doing was rational or not. Right now, all she knew was that he had said the words that she had felt for years now.

She leaned toward him, their foreheads touching now. Both partners had closed their eyes, relishing in the warmth of their mixed breaths on each other's faces. And finally, _finally_, Seeley Booth captured her lips with his in the softest, sweetest of kisses.

_Hold her closer when she cries  
Hold her closer when you know it's time to say goodbye  
You hurry back to see her smile again  
And hold him closer when he's down  
When his world is upside down  
Turn it around_

Never in her life had Temperance Brennan felt _safe_ from kissing a man. But that's how it was with Booth. With his arms protectively around her, Brennan felt safe, wanted—_needed_.They poured their heart and souls into that kiss, speaking with their lips everything they couldn't say with their voice. His hands were wound in her hair; hers, playing easily with the short wisps along his neck. It felt so natural, so right. When Booth finally pulled back, he leaned his head against hers, both greedily taking in air. With a smile on her face, Brennan turned to lie on the couch, Booth's arms wrapped tightly around her. He kissed the top of her head and there, snuggled up on the raggedy brown couch in Booth's apartment, Temperance Brennan finally fell asleep, in the arms of the man she loved.

_So hold her closer when she cries  
Hold her closer when she feels  
She needs a hand to hold  
Someone who'll never let her go  
And hold her closer when she's down  
When her world is upside down  
Turn it around  
Hold her close_

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

**A/N: So, whatdidya think? Should I never, ever attempt to write a songfic again? Review review review, they make my day!**


	5. Pictures

**A/N: I know, I know, it's been forever since I last updated... I feel like I'm saying that every chapter! But hey, you take what you can get, right? **

**Many many thanks to my beta, Kay!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Way to rub it in.**

* * *

There comes a time Sometimes when the rain is coming down in buckets and you're so wet that your fingers begin to wrinkle and you can't tell your socks from your shoes

Sometimes when the rain is coming down in buckets, you're so wet that your fingers begin to wrinkle and you can't tell your socks from your shoes. When you're so wet that umbrellas don't matter anymore and you just give in to the rain, because you simply cannot get any wetter. It was one of those days for Temperance Brennan.

She stood completely still, pellets of rain coming down steadily around her. Her fist was raised in midair, ready to knock, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do it. The cool red wood of the door was slick with rain, and it was staring her down. Challenging her. _Come on knock_, it teased her, _I dare you_. She didn't really know why she was so scared of knocking—maybe because the last time she did, she was greeted by a half naked Booth (which would have been more than fine with her if his half naked girlfriend hadn't been standing right behind him), maybe because things had been more than a little awkward since The Mistletoe Kiss… whatever the reason, her hand seemed to have a mind of its own, and it refused to knock on the door to Seeley Booth's apartment.

Then the door swung open, and it seemed Brennan's hand didn't really get a say.

"Bones, is there a reason you're just standing there outside my door?" he teased. "Most people knock, you know," he added with a smile. He was rewarded with a small smile back. God, he loved her smile. She had a lot of different smiles (seven to be exact) but this one was the kind she saved solely for him, when no one else was around. It was tentative at first, growing wider until it lit up her whole face and everything about her smiled. Her eyes. Her cheeks. Her lips. He would never tire of staring at that smile, Booth thought to himself.

The two partners stood staring at each other for a little too long. Brennan broke the gaze first, wrapping her goose bump-covered arms around herself. It was a cold kind of rain. The kind of rain that freezes your skin and brings a jumpy shake to all your movements.

Booth kicked back the door and ushered her in, shaking his head in frustration. _Sure, Seeley, leave her standing out in the cold, drenched in rain, while you stare at her for twenty minutes. Get your head out of the gutter, man_. They sat facing each other on the couch, and Booth noticed right away that something was different about her. Not wrong, he observed, her eyes weren't large and dark in fear. Instead they were steely, clouded with grey. She had something on her mind.

All words had lost her. Temperance Brennan wrapped her arms around herself again and tried to speak, but the first time in her life, she couldn't. She could not seem to remember the reason she had come anymore; her brain seemed cloudy, a grey haze over all her thought. All she could do was swallow and stare at the man sitting before her. "Want some coffee, Bones? You must be freezing," he added, with a glance towards the window. The rain was still coming down heavily.

She nodded, because her voice still couldn't seem to find itself. As he got up and moved about the kitchen, she took a deep breath, and once again tried to clear her mind and focus on the reason she had come. "Bones, you're never gonna get warm in those clothes, they're soaked." Booth poured water into the coffee pot and turned towards her, motioning to a room down the hall. "Go and grab some clothes out of my room, one of my hoodies or something. I don't want a frozen Bones on my hands." He smiled, and so did she. She nodded and began down the hall, her wet feet leaving dark footprints on the carpet as she went, an innocent, unknowing act that struck Booth as simply adorable. He chuckled lightly to himself, watching as she disappeared behind the door to his room. "Adorable" was not a word most people would use to characterize Temperance Brennan—adorable conjured images of little girls in frilly dresses, of pouting lips and naivety. It certainly did not describe the rough and independent nature of his Bones. No, her constant arguing and tactless demeanor definitely could not be called "adorable"—although, admittedly, when she stuck a hand on her hip and cocked her head at him in the midst of their bickering, he couldn't help but think that she was undeniably cute. But "adorable"… _Oh man, Seel, have you got it bad_, he thought to himself with a shake of his head, a small smile beginning to play across his lips as he turned his attention back to the brewing coffee pot.

She practically swam in his sweatshirt. Brennan had chosen a faded grey FBI hoodie from the top of Booth's bureau drawer; it was clearly an item that received constant use. The sleeves draped loosely over her thin arms, completely hiding her hands from sight. Somehow though, she wouldn't have wanted to be wearing anything else at the time. Wearing her partner's clothing seemed so intimate to her, but strangely comforting at the same time. It felt right. She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her body, and was immediately enveloped in a warm, husky scent that was undeniably Booth. She smiled to herself. Booth always knew how to make her feel better, even if she didn't know what was wrong.

Running a hand through her still soaking wet hair, she stood and took an opportunity to glance around Booth's room. It was neater than she expected—the bed was made, and only the suit jacket he had worn that day was strewn across the chair in the corner of the room, rather than the dirty clothes thrown all across the floor like she had expected. A small bookshelf sat next to the left of the bed, but what caught her eye were the photographs sitting atop it. With a quick glance toward the door (still closed tightly, she noted to her satisfaction), she crept closer to the bookshelf in question. A picture of Parker was first, his school picture Brennan imagined. Booth loved his son more than anything, she knew. Next to that was a large portrait of what she assumed was his whole family. Dressed all in white and laughing happily at one another, they looked almost angelic. The third picture, however, caused a lump to form in the back of Brennan's throat. It was a picture of the two of them, taken just before Christmas that year. _Just before we kissed_, she thought to herself. Neither of them knew the picture was being taken—they were standing close, too close, staring into each other's eyes and completely oblivious to the outside world. The beginnings of a smirk played across his face and she was laughing, her blue eyes twinkling, smiling as well. She pressed a thumb to the metal frame, smiling despite the lone tear that rolled down her cheek.

She hadn't heard him enter the room. _Blame the sniper training_, he thought to himself. He held a mug of coffee in one hand, standing just inside the doorway, simply watching her. Dressed in his baggy FBI hoodie—of course she had chosen his favorite one—he couldn't help but once again return to the thought that she looked, well, adorable. He knew right away which photograph she was looking at, he didn't even have to think about it. Suddenly he felt nervous—would she be angry that he had a photograph of her up in his home without her knowing? But watching a smile grow slowly on her face, he knew she wasn't upset with him. Quietly, he tiptoed over to her, until he stood directly behind her. He reached his hand out to cover hers on top of the frame.

She didn't stiffen like he expected her to. Instead she turned, a grin still plastered onto her face, and took her coffee from him. She spun around to look at the photograph again, sipping her drink in silence for a moment. She stood staring down at the picture, thinking silently to herself before turning to face him once more. The smile was gone from her face now. She looked down, swirling the liquid in her cup, before finally speaking.

"Booth, you shouldn't have a picture of me up there. It's just for your family. I don't… I don't belong up there."

He slipped a finger under her chin, tilting her head up to face her. "Hey Bones, remember, I said there's more than one kind of family…" The situation felt all too familiar. But now, there was no Zack to tap on the glass and interrupt whatever moment was occurring between them. His eyes searched hers, blue meeting brown, never once blinking or looking away. Their eyes could say so much that words could not. "You are my family too, Bones. In every way that counts, _you_ are my family."

The words touched her heart. She wasn't sure if she believed them yet, if she could trust that promise. But looking into his eyes, she had her answer. She knew she could trust Booth. If he said she was his family, she believed him. And that warmed her heart more than coffee or his hoodie ever could.

Ever so slowly, she brought her lips to his. It was a soft kiss, gentle, tender. Barely there at first. A feathery, electric meeting of lips. She pulled back before he had a chance to really respond, leaning her forward against his, content in the simple comfort of their mingling breaths. Booth smiled in spite of himself, thanking God for finally answering the only prayer that mattered, before capturing her lips with his once more.

The rain pounded against the window panes outside, but neither one of them cared. In his warm apartment, in his warm sweatshirt, in his warm embrace, Temperance Brennan finally found where she belonged.

**A/N: Reviews fuel my writing... take a minute and tell me what you thought. Reviews mean the world to me!**


End file.
